


Days Without Paracetamol

by Lumakiri



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Link's Awakening
Genre: F/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:06:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22886776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumakiri/pseuds/Lumakiri
Summary: Link is an addicted ex-soldier in his thirties who wakes up in a distant city after a night of drinking. Marin is the kind-hearted if somewhat neurotic singer who finds him and invites him into her home. But in Koholint City, nothing is as it seems, and it's determined not to let Link go home until it's finished with him.Modern AU of Link's Awakening with mature language, scenes and themes.
Relationships: Link/Marin (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	1. Prologue

_ My head hurts more each time, the drinking strangles me _

_ Believe in God like hell, believe in hell like God _

Link was only vaguely aware of the chain of events that led to his current predicament. He remembered stumbling out of the bar in the early hours, washing down his painkillers with dregs of vodka. He remembered staggering down the street, feeling the pain that seized his body continuously being numbed by those wonderful drugs. He remembered losing all feeling, and then, nothing.

He was only slightly more aware of his situation now. He could feel cold, wet asphalt beneath him, and his face was pressed against a metallic surface, that from the stench he could tell was a trash can. Beyond the smell of the trash was the sharp night air that assaulted his lungs, and he began coughing and spluttering as his body fought itself awake. There was faint music, muffled as if behind a heavy door, and footsteps. A cautious hand placed itself on his shoulder.   
"Hello? Can you hear me?" a gentle, feminine voice pleaded as the hand of its owner rocked Link's shoulder. He blinked his eyes open slowly, squinting as they struggled to focus. As he regained clarity, he was met by a pair of warm brown eyes. They were set in a heart shaped face, framed by long, pale ginger hair which in turn was pulled back by a red hibiscus flower. The young woman was wearing a softly glittering blue dress edged in a triangle pattern.   
“Yes.” Link replied groggily, propping himself up on one elbow. His cream t-shirt and khaki cargo jeans were damp from lying on the ground. He smelled awful.   
“That’s a relief,” she sighed, pulling her hand away. “I thought you’d never wake up. You’ve been out cold here for hours. We couldn’t get you inside – you were like a ragdoll.” She stepped back as Link began to agonizingly haul himself upwards.   
“Where am I? Who are you?” he muttered, wiping the gravel from his hands onto his shirt. He could only imagine how rough he looked, his blonde hair filthy from its time on the ground and blue eyes ringed by dark bags.   
“You’re in Koholint City. Where else could you be?” she spoke softly, voice edged with confusion, “I’m Marin. I work at the Tal Tal Bar here,” she motioned toward the building whose back door Link had been passed out against. “In the Mabe district, by the way, in case you didn’t know that either.” Marin laughed a little, though she still sounded concerned. She brushed a stray hair behind her ear and extended a hand to Link, who grasped it and pulled himself up onto his feet. He swayed for a few moments, unsteady.   
“Goddesses, my head,” he groaned, slowly rubbing his forehead. “Koholint City? What? I’ve never heard of it. Going to be fun figuring out a way back to Kakariko...” he sighed, looking around the small side alley. This was a low, even for him, waking up in a city miles from home. How did he even manage to get here? No way could he have driven in that state and there was no kind of public transport to this place, he was sure of it.   
“You’re not from here?” Marin spoke lowly, quiet and tense. “The city has been shut off for years. Apart from supply trucks, nobody comes in, nobody goes out. Old Wind Fish says it’s due to the gang crime problem. Not that we see any of it here in Mabe.” She seemed to gaze past Link, down the alley and toward the city limits. Link followed her gaze – he could make out lights reflecting on the water. There was no way an entire city could be shut off unless there was only one point of entry – it must be an island. “I’ve never left. Born here and raised here...” she trailed off, before regaining her composure. “We better get you inside. You’re freezing,” and she ushered him in through the heavy door.

All Link could do was try and comprehend why and how he was here, and attempt to leave, despite what Marin said, in the morning. If he didn’t have his drugs soon, this headache might just kill him. 


	2. Downhill from Here

**I. Downhill from here**

_ We'll get you home and wash you up, in a bath of cold coffee.  _

_ I only do this 'cause I love you, and you can make things easier _

The sound inside the bar was deafening to Link’s delicate head. Songs he had never heard of and couldn’t possibly assign a genre to played endlessly through tinny overhead speakers. The main space was divided between the bar, tables and seating, and a stage in the corner with a lone microphone. Various doors lead off to toilets on both sides and a large locked door loomed behind the bar. Despite the time of night, it was very empty. A few teenage boys sat at a table in one corner. There were four, and they all looked alike. Their appearance wasn’t memorable and they seemed to blend into the background. At the bar, a large round-faced man polished it intently, as if distracting himself. Marin led him over to it patiently but persistently, tugging on Link’s hand.   
“He woke up, dad,” Marin rocked the shoulder of the man at the bar to get his attention. He looked up suddenly at Link.   
“Good,” he grumbled lowly, as if not wanting to draw attention. “It doesn’t do good for business having people collapsed outside your back door. Name’s Tarin. I own this bar. My daughter Marin has been tending to you since we found you this morning. You’ve her to thank.”   
“...Link”, was the only reply Link could muster up, “I’m Link. I... don’t know how I got into your alley. I’m from Kakariko. I’ve no idea how I could’ve gotten out here. I’d just like to go home,”   
“I know you’re not from here. Nobody new gets onto the island since the lockdown and you are definitely not a local. The Wind Fish’s people will probably come sniffing,” Tarin replied curtly. He seemed very tense at Link’s foreignness.    
“Wind Fish?” Link groaned, rubbing his head. He didn’t sign up for this shit. He had just wanted a quiet, pain free night at the bar back in Kakariko. He was gonna go home after that and pass out in front of the TV alone like he always did. Like he liked it.   
“The Mayor. It’s an old nickname. Nobody knows where it came from, but it stuck. He initiated this lockdown that’s been in place since...” he trailed off, as if even he wasn’t certain. As if there wasn’t a clear date to remember. “I’ve worked here all my life. Marin was born here and raised here. Nobody leaves. Nothing beyond the bridge, they reckon. Nothing worth seeing, anyway.” Tarin returned to his bar polishing for a moment or too, scrubbing the wood with a look of distant confusion and loss. “Keep your head down. You’re welcome to stay as long as you feed and clothe yourself and don’t cause trouble. We don’t have trouble here in Mabe. You won’t be here long anyway, however you got in, they’ll sort it out,” he grunted, and with that Tarin turned away to polish the other end of the bar. Link felt blank. This had to be some kind of massive fuck up. The authorities would escort him out in the morning, point him toward the nearest public transport to Kakariko, and this would be just a bad dream.    
“I’m sorry about my father,” Marin offered apologetically. The music began to die down. “He’s just concerned for the business. We don’t get the customers we used to from the Animal District. I do my best, I perform every night, but singing doesn’t seem enough to bring them back,” she looked down, voice low and sad. Link made only a low groan in response, headache still vicious even though the music had subsided. Marin winced at his pained expression, and motioned toward the heavy locked door behind the bar.   
“Come get cleaned up. You look terrible, and I bet you feel like it too,” she grabbed Link’s hand before he could protest, and lead him away out the back and up a narrow, dark staircase. He wasn’t used to someone being genuinely nice and decent to him for no particular reason, and if he had been more sober he would’ve been wary. In his current state, he was just glad for the hospitality. Marin led him onto a landing and pointed him toward the door at its end. “Bathroom’s just there. We don’t have a spare bed, but you can use the sofa. I’ll be back in a bit with something to eat,” she smiled softly and turned toward the staircase. Link hesitated momentarily before calling after her, his voice cracked and broken,   
“Why are you doing this for me? You don’t know me,”. He felt he shouldn’t be imposing on her and her father like this. He wasn’t worth the time and effort. Marin looked taken aback and somewhat hurt – Link felt guilty instantly. His own stupidity and worthlessness got him here.   
“That’s no reason not to be a decent human being, is it?” She replied defiantly, forcing a smile, “and it’s not like we often get guests,” and before Link could reply, she disappeared down the staircase.

Turning back toward the bathroom, Link sighed deeply and made his way inside. It was small and cold but clean, with fresh towels and sweet smelling soap. Link filled the glass by the side of the sink with cold water and downed it in one go, to the relief of his parched and foul tasting mouth. He then tried the other faucet and to his delight, it actually produced hot water and he scrubbed his face and hands clean before rinsing out his hair under the tap – there was no point in having a shower with nothing clean to change into. The warmth soothed his head somewhat and he leaned up from the sink, catching sight of himself in the mirror. He was deathly pale and his skin was blotchy and dark around his eyes. His hair was not so bad now the dirt had been washed away, but his hands were cut up from the rough concrete and shaking – Link shuddered at the sight. He had got to get home soon – wherever his jacket had gotten to, so had his prescription meds – and there was no way an out-of-town doctor would give him more. Without them the pain from his joints and his head and his mind would become unbearable. Maybe he was an addict – probably, actually, - but he’d sustained his injuries in war and at least there was some honor in that. He laughed, pressing his head into his hands. As if he actually believed that. As if his time in the army had achieved anything for Hyrule other than the blood of innocents. Goddesses, he hated himself. 

He was pulled out of his self-loathing by footsteps on the stairs. Marin had returned with the remains of a pizza and a bottle of something distinctly alcoholic-looking. She motioned to the door on the left that was slightly ajar – inside was a bleak attempt at a lounge, with a large table in one corner, a pair of well-worn and torn leather sofas and a television. There was also a bookcase, but the few books on it had no title and were covered in a thick layer of dust.    
“Well, this is home,” Marin joked weakly, dropping onto the nearest sofa. Link sat himself on the woollen rug at its base and rested his head on its arm – Marin passed him down a slice of pizza. He had never been more grateful for day-old reheated pizza, and took a swig from the bottle. It was a dark spirit, but tasted somewhat like rum. Marin took a drink too and placed the bottle at her feet, “Bottle Grotto brand rum. Barely rum, if you ask me, but the only stuff we can get." The reintroduction of alcohol to Link’s system further dulled the headache and drowsiness pulled at him. Before he could formulate a response, he had slipped back into unconsciousness in the form of a deep, dreamless sleep.

He awoke to find that, unfortunately, the events of the night before had not been a dream. The blinking display on the ancient VCR below the television told him it was 9 AM, and he could hear Marin’s gentle breathing from the sofa above him. Rising from his crooked position on the rug, Link groaned at the stiffness in his neck. He needed to make it onto the sofa tonight if he wanted to get any decent sleep. However, he felt remotely better for the rest, and after stumbling down the hall and examining himself in the mirror, he looked less worse for wear. His skin tone had evened out except for the dark rings under his eyes, and if you were to ignore the erratic shaking that took over his body every few seconds, he could pass as normal. His mouth was less dry but still tasted awful, and he recoiled at the sensation of running his tongue over teeth that felt furred from not being brushed in nearly 48 hours. A yawn from behind him interrupted his dental dilemma and he turned to see Marin in an oversized worn t-shirt and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Clearly, she’d found time to change before falling asleep last night, unlike himself. Upon catching sight of him, she froze momentarily and rubbed her eyes again, as if to process the sight in front of her; as if in disbelief he was really still here. Link was unsure if she was glad or not of his presence until she broke into a wide smile, and brushed past him into the bathroom where she returned with a toothbrush.   
“Here, it’s a spare. Why they sell toothbrushes in packs of three is beyond me. If you leave your clothes outside the door, I’ll chuck them on a quick wash for you while you shower. Just shout me when you’re done and we’ll figure out some breakfast,” she thrust the brush into his hands, and before Link had a chance to react, had disappeared downstairs to presumably the kitchen. He blinked down at the pristine green and white brush a few times before turning into the bathroom. Nobody, as long as Link could remember, had treated him like he was just a regular guy. They would speak about him in hushed, pitying tones, and keep their distance, like he was diseased. This wonderful, sunny girl that had suddenly entered herself into his life - or was it more accurate to say he had gatecrashed into hers? - had paid no mind to his shaking, his lack of conversation or the fact he’d been blackout drunk by the trash for most of the previous day. She’d welcomed him into her and her father’s home without a second thought.

Slightly dumbfounded, he dutifully pulled off his filthy shirt and jeans before placing them carefully outside the door, which to his relief had a functional lock. Rinsing the brush under the tap, his mouth finally began to taste more pleasant as he furiously scrubbed his teeth clean with the peculiar toothpaste, which on first taste was mint but somehow not quite. Just like the sink, the shower wonderfully produced hot water and Link sunk down to its base as the water crashed over his head. It felt like he spent an eternity there, watching the suds from his hair swirl down the plug hole, breathing in the steamy air that was filled with the scent of shampoo. It must be Marin’s, because it had her same gentle floral scent that was warm and lightly spiced - Link caught the thought before it continued and scolded himself in disgust. He shook his head free of it and began to scrub his arms and chest vigorously with a sponge he found lying in the shower’s base, as if he’d never feel clean. When the warmth had truly soaked into his aching muscles and his skin gleamed pink raw from the scrub down, he finally left the sanctuary of the shower, wrapping the fluffy white towels around his waist and shoulders and peeking his head out the door.   
  
He must’ve been in there for a long time, for his clothes were sitting neatly folded outside the door. There were still faint stains on his t-shirt, but at least they were soft and no longer smelled of damp and trash. Ruffling the last of the wet from his hair from the towel, he now looked somewhat presentable, and he certainly was a lot easier on the nose. Link began to descend the stairs as quietly as possible, unsure if Tarin was awake or not, but they still creaked defiantly under his sockless feet. He had barely focused on the lower floor the night before, and he glanced around to get his bearings. The downstairs was no more than the kitchen and the storage room for the bar, most of the space being taken up by bottles of unidentifiable liquid and a large wooden table, where Marin sat. She was idly twirling a spoon around a bowl of cereal, and upon hearing Link’s entry, motioned him over to a bowl next to her. The box of cereal was  _ Kokiri Krunchies _ and Link couldn’t help but smile as he poured them in,   
“Goddesses, I haven’t had Kokiri Krunchies in years. I didn’t even know you could still get them. They were my favourite as a kid,” he marveled, savouring his first spoonful. Marin smiled, that ridiculously infectious smile, and took another slurp of hers.   
“Well, they’re still my favourite!” she grinned, draining her bowl and setting it down next to the sink. Link had barely begun to eat his own breakfast when a sharp tapping came at the front door of the bar. "We open at six!" Marin shouted irritably towards the noise, which did not subside. She opened the connecting door to the bar, muttering under her breath, when suddenly she fell silent. Link immediately got up at the lack of sound and met her behind the bar. 

At the entrance, through the dim glass, were three figures. A short, sharp faced man in a smart brown suit was flanked by two taller men in matching black suits. The short man was holding a cane topped in a bird's head, which he rapped against the door once again.   
"Goddesses, nothing gets by those people!" she started as Link strode towards the door. These must be the authorities Marin and Tarin were speaking of the day before, finally he could resolve all this mess and get home. Twisting the bolt, he stepped fully out of the door and shut it firmly behind him; they had no reason to bother Marin or her father's establishment. The short and sharp man adjusted his glasses and looked up at Link, forced to take a step back to account for the height difference.   
"You must be Link-" the man began,    
"How do you know my name?" Link cut him off sharply, eyeing him with distrust   
"We know a lot of things, sir. What we don't know is your business here in Koholint. Outsiders are not usually permitted within city limits,"    
"I woke up here, I was drunk, it was probably a dumb prank by someone at the bar. I'm sorry if I've caused any issue. If you'd be so kind as to point me toward the nearest public transport out of the city, I'll be glad to get out of your way," the man laughed pityingly, and shook his head   
"Leave? Simply out of the question, lad. It can't be done. Nobody in, nobody out. Not whilst the Nightmares kick up such a ruckus,"    
"Nightmares?" Link echoed, gut beginning to twist,    
"Koholint has, shall we say, somewhat of a crime issue. This syndicate who call themselves the Nightmares are preventing the legal and lawful control of the city's governor. The City has been on total lock down to try and stifle their activity, which makes it all the more perplexing how you got here. "   
"With all due respect, Mr. -?"    
"Owl. The name is Owl."    
"With all due respect, Mr. Owl, I don't see how that really affects me. I'm clearly not involved with any of these criminals, and I'd just like to go home. I'm a citizen of Hyrule and I should not be detained from returning there if I have not committed any crime."   
"As I said, that simply isn't possible. You may come to our offices to raise a case to leave formally, but until these issues are resolved I would not hold your breath," Link opened his mouth to protest, but Owl simply pressed a business card into his hand, "Our offices are in a building known as the Egg. You'll find us in the Heights, toward the north of the city. Good day, Link." and with that the peculiar trio turned and walked away to a black car with shaded windows some way down the street. As they pulled away, Link noted how otherwise devoid of traffic or life the streets were. It wasn't that early. Flipping the card over in his hand, he sighed and stepped back inside. 

Marin looked at him expectantly, an uncomfortable silence settling over the bar for a few moments. Link tossed the card onto the table nearest her, motioning at it and rubbing his head.   
“They want me to make a ‘formal case’ at their office. What the fuck is that supposed to mean? What is this place, Marin? Why am I here?” She gazed back at him helplessly.   
“It’s just the way it’s always been. This is just Koholint, it’s always been this way, as long as I’ve known. Nobody in, nobo-”   
“Out. Yes, I know.” Link picked the card back up and turned it over in his palm. It was a pale blue and patterned in white as if to imitate clouds. Thick gold lettering in capital letters gave the address of the establishment. He shoved it into his pocket and headed back toward the kitchen. “I’m sorry. Let’s finish breakfast, and I’ll head up there. I’ll probably need your help getting there anyway,” he feigned a smile, and Marin beamed back at him. Breakfast passed in mostly silence. Link gathered their bowls and began to rinse them out in the sink, much to Marin’s protests. He was going to tidy up after himself when he’d been washed and fed by two complete strangers. Once the kitchen was straightened, he found his battered sneakers by the door, and stooped to shove them on his feet.   
“You’re going now?” Marin’s voice was quiet and somewhat sad,   
“Faster this is sorted, faster I go home and I’m out of your hair,” Link again tried to feign a smile, but this Marin did not reciprocate. “Honestly, I can’t thank you enough for your hospitality, but I really don’t want to outstay my welcome.”   
“Oh, you won’t!” the words burst from her, half in jovial hope and half in strained desperation. What was with this place and the people here? It all felt like they said one word and meant another. He forced a laugh and finished tying his shoes, motioning toward the door.   
“Feel like being my local guide?”

The walk to the ‘heights’ was longer than he’d been anticipating. The large, glossy building at the top of the hill didn’t feel like it was getting much closer after half an hour of walking. Marin kept up with his brisk soldier’s pace with no effort, bouncing on her heels and pointing out various landmarks as they passed.   
“Down that way is Catfish’s Maw, the most westerly bay on the island. Kinda rough around those parts, so we don’t go often. And just up here and around the corner is- yes! The main road to Goponga-”   
“You sure got some weird names in this place.” Link smiled, watching her chatter away.   
“Coming from a guy from a place called Karakiro or whatever! That’s a pretty weird name to me,”   
“Kakariko,” he corrected teasingly “And I suppose it kinda is weird.” The hairs on the back of his neck pricked up as he realised he’d seen no one else in all the time they’d walked. Not a soul, or even a car. Just a vast, empty labyrinth of huge glass skyscrapers. He’d tried to mention it to Marin, but she shut down with the same ‘That’s just Koholint, that’s just how it is,’ mantra she’d repeated that morning. “How long to this place, then?”   
“Well, we’re here?” Marin came to a dead stop and Link jerked backwards to see the large oval building almost directly in front of him. How on Farore’s green earth? He looked back down the hill and couldn’t place where they’d been moments before. Shaking his head, he took his hands out his pockets, retrieving the card as he did so, and flicked his wrist at the lobby.   
“Coming in with me?” she immediately shook her head and took a step back,”   
“I’ve not been invited in. I shouldn’t go.” Her tone was suddenly serious and Link was somewhat taken aback by the speed in which she changed moods.   
“Fair enough.” He muttered, striding toward them, “Seeya in a bit.”

A vast lobby opened up in front of him, impossibly bigger than what the exterior suggested. A lone woman sat behind a dark stone desk. She snapped her neck up to look at him as soon as he approached, and before he could say a word,   
“They’re expecting you. Elevator on your right. Top floor.” Deciding it was easiest not to argue, he duly followed her directions and waited for the elevator to take him upwards. It was all glass, showing a beautiful view of the entire island. A single bridge stretched away from it and seemed to fade into the horizon, nothing but water on every other side. Despite it being late morning, the streets below him felt dark and oppressive in a way he couldn’t quite put a finger on. Link was jostled from his thoughts by the  _ ping _ of the elevator and the doors sliding open. The same short, sharp faced man from the morning sat in an imposing chair by the window, somewhat away from a low, marbled table. His two bodyguards, they must be, stood either side of the door. He smiled at Link, which he felt was probably an attempt to be welcoming but instead was incredibly unsettling. Feeling dread start to gather in his belly, Link moved to sit in the chair opposite, but instead stayed standing as his host rose from his own seat.   
“Welcome, Link.”   
“Mr. Owl.”   
“Let’s be done with formalities. I want to get directly down to business.”   
“I just want to go home, sir.”   
“You are a soldier, are you not?”   
“Were.” Link set his jaw and steeled his tone. “I don’t see how it’s rele-”   
“We find ourselves in need of a man with your kind of abilities.” He opened his mouth to reply, but closed it again. He had to listen. Curiosity was a bitch. “As I previously mentioned, we have a problem here on Koholint. These...criminals seek to take control of the island from our beloved patron.”   
“Where is this governor? Surely a big penthouse office like this would be his?” Link allowed his posture to loosen and stuck his hands back in his pockets. He couldn’t stand political types. The man appeared to ignore his question and carried on.   
“We have identified eight leaders. Kill them, and you can go home.” From a drawer in the table in front of him, he withdrew a pistol. Its grip was mother-of-pearl and carved with intricate patterns Link couldn’t make out from this distance. He didn’t want to get closer. He hadn’t fired a gun in a decade and he did not intend to now. Especially not for politician’s sick games.   
“I don’t know how you know my name or my history, but if you know I was a soldier you’d also know why I am not one any longer. I want no part of whatever twisted strategy you’ve got going here,” and he turned on heel to leave.   
“I thought you’d say that, so I have something else to offer you.” A familiar rattle snapped him back to attention. He spun around to see the man withdraw a bottle of pills from his jacket - when had that been slung over the back of the chair? - and place it on the table next to the pistol. “These are yours, yes?”   
“You piece of shit,” Link growled, and moved to snatch them back from the table. The man drew them away quickly with his cane and the two large men by the doors, who Link had forgotten were even there, were at his side in an instant. “They are prescription! I need them!”   
“You’ll get a dose for each of these miscreants you dispose of.”   
“Fuck this. And fuck you. You can’t keep me here forever. I am a citizen of Hyrule and they will come looking for me!”   
“We both know your government couldn’t care less about you, lad. I’m giving you an opportunity to make a real difference to this island. You wouldn’t want that lovely girl and her father to come to harm from these criminals, would you?” Link yelled in frustration and burst back into the elevator.

“You know where to find us when you change your mind.” The Owl’s voice echoed as the doors slipped shut and he sunk back down into the unknown.


End file.
